


candles

by pseudocitrus



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudocitrus/pseuds/pseudocitrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Touka is one of two people left in the dorm over winter break, and the power goes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	candles

**Author's Note:**

> this was posted on tumblr forever ago and i somehow forgot to post it to ao3 :'D;; the prompt originally came from a set of holiday-themed prompts. specifically, it's: "i live below you and i was minding my own business watching the snowfall out the window WHEN I SAW A BODY FALL ARE YOU REALLY PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS LIGHTS NOW"
> 
> hope you're having a good day!

Her resident advisor is friendly, but…

She should have guessed, from the weird mail she had received a week before arriving, whose subject title had read URGENT and whose contents was a survey asking for name, birthday, blood type, and favorite color and animal.

Or maybe she should have guessed from the fact that she had arrived at her dormitory room’s door to find it completely covered with paper creatures. (There were rabbits that were multi-colored, as she had left the “color” field blank; and green frogs, presumably Yonebayashi’s favorite color and animal, though Touka had yet to encounter her while they were both awake and capable of conversation.)

At the very least, Sasaki’s huge smile upon meeting her — “ _Hellooo, Touka Kirishima! Pleased to meet you!!_ ” — should have cued her.

She had dared to hope a little that things might be different here — her heart had practically started _racing_ , from some combination of terror and excitement, probably, at the prospect of it.

But, she should have guessed. Friendliness is just one of his eccentricities, and one that seems to belong only to him. He stops by her room to distribute baked goods and study kits filled with candy and instant coffee, but — she tells herself firmly — he does this for _everyone_.

Meanwhile, no one else bothers speaking with her.

And she can’t quite bring herself to speak to anyone else, either.

Touka lifts a glitter-cotton tail poof from the doorknob so she can turn it properly and walk in. Maybe…maybe…

Nope. Yonebayashi, who she has never seen ever leave her bed even to retrieve the snacks she is constantly eating, is gone. Just in case, Touka checks the closet, and confirms that a reasonable amount of Yonebayashi’s pajamas are gone as well. She too has gone home for the holidays.

Well…well…that’s fine. Touka shuts the door and sits at her desk. Now she can anything. Listen to music loudly. Study wherever she wants. Eat all the smelly food she desires.

 _I can do anything,_ she tells herself, and she turns and begins staring out the window. It’s been hours now, and snow is still falling.

A storm warning had sent everyone away early, and the dorm building is hollow, and cold. After her arrival, Touka attended a party or two and couldn’t manage more than a couple words before fleeing. Normally, it feels like an impossible thing to break into that other world where normal people talk with each other normally and have normal, overcome-able problems. Transferring in this late in the year, it feels…even more impossible.

And it’s so cold. Touka leans her head against a propped-up hand, and after a while searches for a tissue and, failing to find one, just uses her scarf to wipe at her eyes.

It’s so cold.

At least watching the snow is calming. It might be nice to just head out for a bit and lay down outside. It would be so quiet. Out there, she could close her eyes, and rest. Snow would gently fold over her. Soon, she would be covered up by individual flakes fa —

A skid — a yelp — a scream. Suddenly, something huge and dark and very unsnowflake-like falls outside the window, and lands with an enormous THUD, followed by a skitter across the outside of the dorm, and a swinging string of lights. Touka stares in disbelief, and then jumps forward to peer down and ends up just banging her head against the window. Cursing, she flees the room, rubbing her head.

:::

She should have guessed.

“Kiri…shima?” Sasaki asks dazedly. “Is that…really you?”

“Um. Yeah.”

He is lying back-down on the ground, arms and legs spread. The impact dug him a couple centimeters into the snow. Touka looks down at him, and then up. The string of lights is still swaying. Was he seriously trying to hang these up in this weather?

It’s…it’s pretty high. How did he even get up there? How could he have possibly thought this was a good idea to do while it was _snowing_?

“I don’t think this was a good idea,” Touka tells him.

“I just wanted to brighten things up a little,” Sasaki replies.

“During a _storm_?”

He smiles faintly at the air. “Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because there’s a _storm_.”

His smile gets just a little wider. It’s — a nice smile, even considering his weirdness. “It just felt like the right day for it.”

She reaches out to try and stop the string from swinging, and from above hears a little _crack_. Suddenly, there’s a slither, and a slide; and all the lights come piling down, flickering and then going dark.

Touka feels the blood drain from her face.

“S-Sorry,” she says quickly.

“It’s okay,” Sasaki says, still lying on the ground.

Touka gathers up the lights in her arms. Then she stands, waiting for Sasaki to ask her to help him up, and when he doesn’t, she swallows. It’s getting really cold out here. She forgot to bring her gloves. She clinches the lights beneath her arm and pockets her hands.

He’s still just laying there, staring up. His expression is a little more neutral, now. Snowflakes are starting to pile in the folds on his clothing. Touka shifts her weight from foot to foot. What kind of a person just lays out in the snow?

Sasaki is still quiet.

This is so unlike him. Where’s the person that she could so easily imagine cutting out dozens of rabbits and taping them onto the door of a stranger? The person who keeps baking desserts for people and throwing parties where he walks around saying things like “ _Winter puns are snow joke_ ”?

“Hey,” Touka says, finally, uneasily. “Are you okay?”

Silence.

“Yes,” he replies, sitting up and rubbing his face. Snow falls from his scarf. He sighs, breath pluming and steaming up his glasses; then he smiles, and pushes himself to his feet. He stumbles and almost falls back into his self-shaped hole only once.

“Thanks,” he says, taking the lights from her. They start walking back to the dorm.

“Are you really okay?” Touka asks.

He laughs. “I’m fine,” he says, “please, don’t worry about it,” and immediately afterward crashes his shoulder into the door frame and cringes. Touka coughs.

“If you say so.”

They enter the lobby. It is utterly silent, and for the first time, Touka realizes that, in their whole building, she and Sasaki might be the only ones left. She stops herself from looking up at him in confusion. Why hasn’t he gone? Shouldn’t someone like him have some kind of home to go back to?

In addition to it being silent, the lobby is, for some reason, dark. The work of a janitor? Touka doesn’t even know where the lights are, but fortunately, Sasaki does. He flicks a switch, ineffectually.

“Looks like the power’s out,” Sasaki says brightly.

“Great,” Touka says, not as brightly.

“Will you be okay?” Sasaki asks. “The heat will be out too, if there’s no electricity.”

Fantastic.

“I have blankets,” Touka says. If her own won’t suffice, she’s sure Yonebayashi won’t mind. Or notice.

“Alright.” They are at the stairs. Sasaki pauses. The lights rattle together as he fiddles with them.

“Hey, Kirishima,” he says. “Do you…maybe…want to hang out a little?”

Touka is silent.

“I have some cake,” he says invitingly. “And candles. It’s…well, it’s kind of against the rules to burn things inside the Chateau, but…I won’t file a report of you won’t.”

Hanging out with Sasaki. In the cold.

And dark.

In his _room_.

“No thanks,” Touka mutters. “But thanks.”

She barely knows him, outside of the ridiculous posters he draws for every dorm event. (“ _We’re making snowmen! Don’t give us the cold shoulder!”)_ And for all she knows, this is just some stupid move to pity her.

“Of course,” he says cheerfully.

They bid each other farewell at her floor. Touka walks to her door. She hesitates, listening to his steps continue up the stairs, and then sighs and lifts a glitter-cotton tail poof from the doorknob. Her room is empty, she tells herself. She can do anything. She sticks her hand into her pocket.

Some minutes later, she arrives, knocking, at Sasaki’s door. He opens it, blinking.

“Hi,” Touka says weakly.

“Hi,” Sasaki says confusedly.

Touka opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, and sighs.

“I…um..left my key inside my room,” she mumbles.

“Oh,” he says. “That’s unfortunate.” He thinks. “And Saiko is already gone, right?”

“Um…yeah. She is.” Touka coughs. “You…you don’t have a way to unlock rooms, do you?”

Sasaki tilts his head, looking up, and then smiles and scratches his face apologetically.

“No…I’m afraid not. But,” he says, “I do have cake.”

:::

Sasaki uses his phone to light up the way to his desk, and pulls out the chair for her.

“I thought you had candles,” Touka says.

“I…um, well, I…well, yes,” he says. “Just a second. I need to find them. Do you need a blanket?”

She’s shaking.

“Yes,” Touka admits weakly, and Sasaki smiles at her and drags one off his bed. It billows as he shakes it out, and he rests it over her shoulders.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I just cleaned it,” and she nods, and grimaces as he turns away. Even if he says he just cleaned it, it still smells…weird. Well, not _weird,_ but just…strong. Like… _him._

She swallows. Weird, weird, weird. She shivers, and draws the blanket closer. At least the smell isn’t…totally unpleasant. In fact, it’s…sort of…

Touka coughs.

“Oh, no — are you getting sick?”

“U-um, no. I…no. I don’t think so.”

The light from Sasaki’s phone pauses, and then resumes its erratic sweep across his kitchen. An advisor’s room is much nicer than a normal student’s, as it turns out. That he has a kitchen at all is startling. The contents of various drawers rattle as he opens and closes them. Touka brings her knees to her chest and, while waiting, scans the rest of his room.

There’s a huge bed — well, not _huge_ , but certainly much larger than what she and Yonebayashi have. There’s also a table. And shelves upon shelves of books.

That’s about it.

It’s a little…sad, really. Maybe it’s just the dimness and the chill, but…but somehow she assumed someone as cheerful and energetic as Sasaki would have a more lively-looking room. Lots of photographs or notes or gift trinkets from his residents. Or at least more decorations than a single poster with bananas on it.

Everything in here seems relatively…untouched, except for his desk, but even that is just strewn with novels and assignments and various documents.

Well — no. There’s a letter here too, with a saw-toothed tear. The contents seems to have been the other paper lying nearby, a letter made of heavy-looking stationary with a gold dove across the header. She can’t stop her eyes from drawing across the writing.

_Greetings, Haise. I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to wish you a happy —_

“Sorry,” Sasaki calls, and Touka jerks straight and kicks the chair away from the desk.

“S-sorry —? For what?”

“For…um…haha…well.” Sasaki walks back into the room. One hand is up, as if he’s holding something, but Touka can’t see the candles until he comes toward her and shows her his palm.

They are…very small candles. Thinner than a pencil. Made of spirals of multi-colored pastels and white.

“Oh,” Touka says.

Sasaki scratches his head. “They won’t last long. But we can use them after my phone battery runs out,” he offers. “There are…well, there are over twenty of them, so…we could use them one by one, or something.

“Sorry,” he says again, setting the candles down on his desk.

“It’s fine,” Touka says, a little stiffly. “What about the cake?”

“O-oh, are you hungry? We could eat it.”

“Let’s,” Touka says, and she follows him into the kitchen. Even with the power out, Sasaki doesn’t seem to mind opening the refrigerator.

“It’s cold enough anyway,” he says. He retrieves the cake, a small but elaborate one with white icing and a crown of fruit.

“Bring it to the table,” Touka says, “I’ll bring everything else,” and Sasaki nods, and balances the cake in his hands. Touka holds up the phone so he can make his way, and then uses it to guide her rummaging around his drawers.

When she returns to the main room, Sasaki is arranging mismatched chairs around the table. She sets down the plates, and the forks, and then holds up the candles, secretly retrieved from the desk, and begins to stab them into the icing. Sasaki opens his mouth to protest, and then doesn’t.

The matches were in one of his drawers. Once the candles are all put in, Touka taps a match out, and lights it. She lights the candles one by one, and then turns off his phone. In the cold room, the candles give off a strange sort of warmth.

They watch the flames burn for a little.

“Make a wish,” she tells him.

He says nothing, but does pause, as if contemplating it. After a while, he inhales, and blows. In the darkness, the scent of smoke pinches her nose.

Then they turn the phone on again, and eat.

:::

There’s not much to do without electricity. At some point, the last of the room’s warmth begins seeping out, and they both transfer over to sitting, shivering, on opposite ends of Sasaki’s bed, while the wind begins to ram the walls and their breath begins to hang in the air. They talk and laugh quietly and talk more while Sasaki’s battery depletes, and afterward.

School. The Chateau. Storms. Snow. Families. Stew. Food. Gardens. Flowers. Childhood. Dreams. And how they break.

Without being able to see anything, it’s easy not to feel how weird it is to be sitting beside each other, and even easier not to pretend to not notice how they are so close now that their knees are touching.

“I’m about to fall asleep,” Sasaki admits finally. She hears him rub his eyes.

“Me too,” she admits.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says, and Touka reaches. She intended to just grab his arm, but he shifted forward at just the last moment, and, somehow, her fingers land on his.

They are silent.

“It’s cold,” Touka manages finally.

“Okay,” he replies.

It would be harder, probably, if they could see. As it is, it’s only a little awkward. Touka eases forward, unseeing, into Sasaki’s spread arms. She hovers for only a moment, and then he rests his hand on her shoulder, and she lets him guide her down against his side. They hold their breath for a moment, and then release it as she presses her body to his. He moves his arm beneath her, so her head rests on his shoulder; she slides her own arm over, so her hand rests on his waist.

Her heart is beating so fast now that, for a while, she can’t believe how she could possibly sleep this way, much less with his room beginning to color pale blue from the light outside. But she closes her eyes anyway, and lets her body untense, and somehow, to the slow and deep rhythm of his breath, she slips asleep.

It’s so warm.

:::

The harsh, late morning light stirs him awake, but he doesn’t get up; just continues lying there, careful not to wake her. His glasses are still on, and he shifts one arm around underneath the blankets, maneuvering it carefully to his face. As he does so, he hears something metallic chime, and his brows furrow. He lifts the blanket, and peers down.

It’s a key. A single Chateau key, bare, on a single bare keychain.

Just as he guessed.

Somehow, though, it’s a little sad to see how spare it is. He thought someone like Touka would carry around a couple more charms. Maybe he can get her something for it.

He pushes they key away, gently, and then takes off his glasses and sets them aside. Beside him, Touka stirs. Her eye cracks open a little, and then she squinches it shut and buries her face against him with a groan. Sasaki smiles and drags the blanket over both of them, and they continue sleeping.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're interested, the au continues a little further [on my tumblr.](http://pseudocitrus.tumblr.com/tagged/lights-au/chrono)
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
